THROWN INTO WESTEROS

The cold was biting, far more intense than anything I'd felt before. My breath fogged in the air, and it was then I noticed something odd about myself. My usual clothes were gone. Instead, I was dressed in thick medieval woolen garments—a jacket, pants, and sturdy boots that felt out of place.

I ran a hand over the coarse fabric. These clothes weren't from my world; they looked straight out of the medieval age. Plus, why the hell was I in a frozen forest? True, I know Alaska is notorious for cold and all, but even Alaska had some respect for summer... unless it had turned to winter overnight.

My fingers brushed against something metallic in my pocket. I pulled it out, revealing a shiny, rod-like object. It gleamed in the dim moonlight that seeped past the leafless dense woods that surrounded me. I felt a strange sense of familiarity, though I couldn't place it.

I was about to further scrutinize my surroundings and my new attire when movement caught my eye. Someone was approaching, carrying a torch.

A few seconds later, I was convinced I was dreaming. "This… this guy looks familiar," I whispered to myself as I ran my fingers through my haggard hair. I could be wrong, of course, what with the bad visibility and all, but now that I was thinking about it, I felt a deeper conviction that I had seen him somewhere before.

Suddenly, the man came to an abrupt stop and swung his torch my way. It was like he had heard the barely audible words I had uttered. His stern gaze fell on the tree I was lurking behind and lingered there for a moment as if waiting for something to happen.

I did not move. At that moment, even my breathing had slowed down. Not because of fear. Despite the fact that I wasn't aware of my environment, there was nothing scary about an old haggard guy, except for the fact that it was night and he sure as hell looked out of place, and so did I. It was simply caution.

The man, apparently satisfied that there was no cause to fret, laid down his torch and then proceeded to put down the bundle. To my utter surprise, a baby's gurgle came from the laid bundle. The man took his torch and, barely glancing at what he had laid down, turned and almost fled back to where he had come from.

I was left speechless. "What the hell," I exclaimed. "Is that… is that a baby?"

As if to confirm my suspicion, a shrieking infant cry suddenly filled the surroundings, completely eliminating my doubts. For a while, I stood as if I was in a trance, my gaze constantly running between the helpless, wailing bundle and the man, as if waiting for him to reemerge and take back the baby. He had to. Maybe… maybe he had just disappeared to relieve himself or something. He was surely going to come back any minute now.

Except he did not.

Several long minutes dragged by with no sign of the guy coming back for the infant. All this while, the infant's cry grew so unbearable that finally, I could not hold back my sympathy, which all this while had been checked by the fear of uncertainty.

Now it became clear to me that the man was never coming back. Because… because this had been the sole reason he had come out here in the first place. The realization of this cut through my heart at the cruelty of the action.

"What kind of monster does that?" Why the hell would any human choose such a place to leave a baby? Sure, it was not like I had not heard of kids being abandoned by their parents, but the cases I had heard were more tolerable. I mean, someone would once in a while leave their child at a children's home gate, or in an airport or subway station. I mean somewhere where people were bound to find and rescue the baby. This… this, however, was unheard of, at least for me.

My eyes quickly did a sweep across the dim clearing before I finally stepped out from behind the tree. Slowly, I approached the bundle. Up to now, I noticed that a part of me was in doubt as to whether it was actually a real baby. I mean, it was the freaking twenty-first century; such things as wailing dolls surely existed. I wasn't quite sure why the man would go to such pains as to dump one in the middle of a forest, but then again, if you tried to figure half the reasons why people do things, you would likely end up in an asylum.

That cry, however, was so raw that I highly doubted that it was coming from a speaker. Reaching the bundle, I bent over it. The haggard clothes it was wrapped in had fallen over its face, and I reached out with a trembling hand to remove it.

"Fuck… oh God, no." I quickly jumped back with my hand on my heart. I had not realized just how much I had been hoping that it wasn't an actual living child. Taking quick gulps of breath, I recollected myself and went back. The tiny eyes that stared back at me were as human as it gets. God! The little thing looked so innocent as it threw both its arms at me while wailing. I could not take it any longer.

"Fuck that monster." Based on its appearance, I could swear that it was not even a month old. I squatted further and gathered the worn-out rags the baby was wrapped in before picking it up and bringing it to my chest.

"Shh, dear, it's okay, it's alright." I had never had a sibling growing up, but still, the art of calming a baby was not foreign to me, not with the high volumes of films I consumed. It took a while, but slowly the baby eventually calmed down, its curious, intelligent eyes fixed on me as if wondering who the fuck this new guy was. Then, surprisingly, its lips parted in a gentle smile as it finally decided whoever I was, I was definitely better than the one who had left it.

I unknowingly found myself smiling back. I could not help it. I had never experienced this, but there was something disarming about the infant's smile. I felt a warmth toward the baby as I wrapped it closer to my chest. How could anyone be so unkind to such an angel?

Then suddenly that smile disappeared, and a heart-wrenching wail was back. It was sudden but not unexpected as I could tell why. The air that had previously been chilly now became intolerably freezing. This brought my attention back to the strange environment, which I had momentarily ignored.

"Shh… calm down now… please calm down," I implored vainly.

I had never experienced a cold like this in my entire life, and that was saying something, seeing I live in Alaska. I had to at least find some kind of shelter or we would not survive the frostbite.

"Come on… we have to get out of here."

At least I was aware that there were humans around here. My plan was simple: take the baby to the nearest household. Maybe they would know its parents, and for God's sake, pray and hope it was not the man that had left it there in the first place.

The moment I turned, however, I almost dropped the poor thing down. My heart almost stopped. I felt as though my blood was frozen inside my veins as I stared into the cold blue eyes of the figure that was standing a few paces away from me. An actual scream tore from my throat at the sheer unexpectedness of the event. I scampered back, tripping in the process and falling on my back.

"What… what the hell is this… where in hell was this?"

Staring at the thing that now stood before me, it was not only fear that gripped me. No, I suddenly felt my brain crushing as all the pieces I had been encountering up to now finally clicked together. I… I could not believe it. I could not believe this.

So that was why the weather had gone intensively cold. Of course… this was a White Walker and cold was the signature of their presence. And… and that man, he must be Craster's and I… I must be fucked up. I must have lost it. Now more than ever I found myself believing I must be in a dream, but this… nah, this felt way too real.

How the fuck had I gotten into Westeros? I mean, for sanity's sake, Westeros was a fictional world.

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